


At Least There Was NyQuil

by orphan_account



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, sick, throw up mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 07:50:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20870747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Garrett has the flu but Andrew's pretty sure he's the one who's sick. With love.





	At Least There Was NyQuil

**Author's Note:**

> I'm baaaaaack ! I wrote this because I'm sick and for anyone else that isn't feeling their best. I checked with my sources and I can confirm this is 100% canon. So, take that and run with it. If you want to hangout with me you can find me at my tumblr gandrewheadcannons!

He feels Shane’s eyes on him as he pulls his phone out for the fourth time in an hour. “Sorry.” Andrew mumbles, double checking his messages to make sure he hasn’t missed a text from Garrett; even going as far as to open up the messages under Garrett’s name to ensure that he was still the last person to have sent anything. Still no response.

“Are you expecting a call or something?” Shane asks when Andrew sends out another message. He looks warily down at Andrew’s hands that are white knuckled around his case. He can feel the damp heat of annoyance bubbling under both of their skin begging for the right tone or words to be said to start an unnecessary argument.

“No, just…” He sighs and scrubs a hand across his face. “Have you heard from Garrett recently? I haven’t heard from him in a few days.” Three days. It had been three days since his last message from Garrett which was just an, “okay xx” when he’d let him know he’d be at Shane’s for the week and probably pretty sporadic with his messaging. Andrew tried to make sure most of his family and friends knew when he’d be gone for longer periods of editing so that they wouldn’t think he’d fallen off the face of the Earth. Garrett, typically, the only one who would still continue a one-sided conversation despite the fact it was usually just an emoji or a funny picture he’d found. Radio silence was almost unheard of even when his headspace wasn’t right, and it was making Andrew nervous.

“Honestly haven’t even tried.” Shane admits, mostly under his breath, and clicks back a few frames. “Do you think we should keep this clip in?” Andrew sets down his phone next to him and looks up. It’s of Jeffree applying lipgloss in the mirror. It looks the same as the last ten frames that Andrew’d filmed throughout this series to get the right thumbnail.

“It’s kind of boring.” Andrew sighs and Shane nods thoughtfully, tilting his head to one side and squinting and then to the other. Currently, all of this feels boring in comparison to figuring out why Garrett had ignored his facetimes, multiple messages, and calls. That knot of anxiety that he thought he’d been getting better at controlling resurfaces itself in the form of a tennis ball size lump in his chest. It aches painfully and his breath stutters in time with the rampant beat of his heart.

“Yeah I thought so too.” Shane sounds distracted as he highlights a few of the frames and clicks, deleting the clip. They get back into it, Andrew trying his best to ignore the niggling feeling of worry that threatens to spill out of his mouth every time Shane asks a question about transitions or lighting. His wrist stings from how many times he’d snapped his bracelet; an angry red line blossoming that hugs the line between painful and sweet. He’s about to call it quits and just go to bed when all of a sudden, his phone buzzes on the coffee table.

_1 new message from G_ highlights across the screen and Andrew’s immediately pulling it up, fingers shaking with anticipation. ‘_Sick_’ is all it says. Frowning, Andrew types back out, ‘_How sick??’_ Knowing it had to be pretty bad if it kept Garrett off his phone. He’s relieved when he sees the three bubbles popping in and out before they disappear completely with no other response from Garrett. He waits a beat to see if a message will come through. Then another. Garrett doesn’t reply back again though.

“Hey.” He tells Shane who’s engrossed behind his own computer screen now, looking up royalty free music. “Garrett is sick.” Shane doesn’t look up from the screen. “Shane.” Andrew barks at him, annoyed, standing up to power down his own laptop and to slide into his backpack.

“Huh?” Shane blinks owlishly. His eyes look as heavy as Andrew’s own feel, both with identical dark smudges underneath.

“Garrett isn’t feeling good. I’m going to go to his for the night, see if he’s okay.” He wants to feel casual about it all but his anxiety has him embarrassed that he feels the need to leave for the night just to check in on a friend. He blushes as he fiddles with the zipper on his bag.

“Oh, yeah?” Shane looks surprised at Andrew’s desperate reaction, “I’m sure he’s okay, he doesn’t need us to mother him.” He adds pulling a face. Andrew just shakes his head at the shade and types out a quick message to Garrett to let him know he could come over if Garrett wanted him. Tries not to think about what that means.

“Whatever man.” Andrew says, with no real heat behind it. He knows it’s just Shane still feeling bitter over a disagreement he and Garrett had a few weeks prior where Garrett had quoted those exact words to Shane, annoyed at Shane’s constant meddling. He bites his lip as he waits to see if Garrett will answer and then sends another message asking if he wanted any medicine just to see if the question would illicit a response. When no response comes through, he quickly hits the call button and anxiously waits to see if he’ll pick up. Garrett answers on the fourth ring.

“An’rew.” Andrew can barely hear Garrett’s voice, a thin and hoarse whisper. He doesn’t say anything else. Turning his back to Shane to have some semblance of privacy, Andrew furrows his brow.

“Shit, Garrett.” He whispers softly, “You sound awful. Have you gone to the doctor?” He’s met with a wet cough and no response, except for a weak groan. Instantly he’s met the strong urge to be with him. “I’m finished up here, I’ll come over and bring you some and medicine stuff; if you want it?” He thinks Garrett might whisper okay but it’s hard to tell with the lack of timber behind his voice. “Probably be about an hour before I’m there though.” Garrett’s coughing fit just continues, a sound coming from deep in his chest.

“Okay.” Is all Andrew gets. He almost doesn’t hear it from how gone Garrett’s voice is.

“I’ll text you when I’m close but I’ve got my key so don’t worry about trying to stay awake. You can go back to sleep if you need.” He tries not to imagine Garrett wrapped up all alone in his bed in the dark, uncomfortable and in pain with that cough. “See you soon.” Andrew says and he thinks that Garrett tries to say goodbye but another coughing fit happens. “Love you.” He adds quickly and Andrew ends the call. Shane is staring at his back with a questionable look on his face.

“All good?” He asks with an edge Andrew isn’t sure he likes, head cocked to the side and eyes squinted thoughtfully. Andrew rubs the back of his neck, soothing the burning feeling shooting up it.

“Uh, yep.” He mumbles and finishes throwing the rest of his supplies in his backpack, thankful that he’d gotten better about keeping everything in one place so he could pack up with ease. Living from a suitcase wasn’t comfortable but neither was tearing about someone else’s house to find whatever he needed whenever he was ready to just get home. “We’re okay for the night?” Shane’s still staring at him. It’s only 9:30, way too early to be calling it quits, but Andrew’s question was less of an option and more of a demand. He still feels uncomfortable with the way Shane is watching him.

“We’re good.” Shane nods. “I can come with you if you want?” He doesn’t look eager to do so though and Andrew admittedly would rather he didn’t. He instantly feels guilty at the hot desire of having, even a sick, Garrett all to himself. Lately it seems like all he wants. Doesn’t feel like he gets his fill unless it’s just the two of them, nobody around to take Garrett’s interest off of him.

“You’re cool.” He says, picking up his bag and slipping his feet into his slides. “I’ll text you,” He says and Shane has the strange look back in his eyes. “Everything okay?” He feels uncomfortable in a way he typically doesn’t around Shane.

“Yeah.” Shane says and he licks his lips before opening his mouth again like he wants to say something before he just drops his gaze back down to his computer screen. “Tell Garrett I hope he feels better.” The exchange is odd and it makes his arms itch with the desire to fall back and beg Shane to let him in on what he’s thinking. Slipping his hood over his head to avoid the dampness from the passing rainstorm, he turns back to wave at Shane who’s gone back to his computer screen again and doesn’t seem to notice as Andrew slips out the door.

**

He knocks twice, mostly out of courtesy, before fumbling with his keyring to find the one that would unlock Garrett’s place. He isn’t proud of the shriek he lets out when Garrett opens the door before Andrew has the chance to slide the key into the lock. He’s in a plain t-shirt and a pair of briefs, his hair disheveled; pale and leaning against the frame.

“Hi,” He sounds faint and Andrew has to strain to hear him but his eyes are bright as he stares down at Andrew excitedly. Andrew immediately wraps one arm around him and pulls him into a tight hug. It had been almost two weeks since they’d actually seen each other.

“You look like shit.” He says as his cheek presses against Garrett’s warm shoulder. His thrumming body instantly relaxes as Garrett leans against him, at ease as they pull back and Andrew shakes the CVS bag in his hand. “I wasn’t sure what you needed.” He gently pushes Garrett back into the house and settles him on the couch with a frown at the way Garrett seems to sway even as he’s sitting.

“I’m dying.” He mouths to Andrew mournfully. Andrew doesn’t actually disagree that he might be. Garrett is trembling and on closer inspection even his lips are the color of chalk and under his eyes the bags are tinged a deep purple.

“Good thing I’ve got a revival kit.” Andrew jokes with him but reaches out to rest a hand on Garrett’s forehead to feel the temperature. Garrett leans heavily into his palm and lets his eyes slide down. “Mm, you feel really hot.” He takes his hand away and rolls his eyes as even a sick Garrett manages to smirk.

“Andrew, thank you.” He cheekily smiles and waves a hand at Andrew’s comment. “You’re too sweet to me.”

“Shut up.” Andrew laughs and digs through the bags to find where he’d picked up a thermometer, knowing that Garrett wouldn’t own one. “We need to figure out how high your fever is.” He goes into the kitchen to find something to cut through the plastic before coming back over to the couch where Garrett is now lying flat out. “You been sleeping out here?” He asks, the thermometer making a chiming sound as the screen lights up. Garrett shakes his head and points to the bedroom, despite the fact that the couch has a blanket and a pillow.

“Threw up.” He looks defeated. “Washing stuff.” Directing Andrew’s gaze to the sound of the dryer over in the corner.

“Okay. I can finish it while you sleep.” He brings the tip of the thermometer to Garrett’s lips who pulls back and makes a face. “Do this for me, please.” Andrew all but begs as Garrett slips it in and holds it so it stays under his tongue, looking like a child as he watches Andrew unpack the rest of the bag full of medicine, cough drops, tissues, and even a few cans of soup. He tries not to worry at how long the temperature reading is taking knowing it can only mean that Garrett’s fever is high. When the thermometer finally sounds off, Andrew rearranges Garrett so he can take a seat next to him on the couch, Garrett turning on his side so he can curl his body like a cat around Andrew. Taking the thermometer from Garrett’s hand he frowns at the 101.1 reading and looks down and back at Garrett who is staring up at him with glossy eyes. He runs a hand through Garrett’s bangs, pushing them away from his sweaty forehead, and comforts himself to avoid the concern eating through his stomach.

“Dying.” Garrett mouths sleepily at him but he’s smiling softly at Andrew, nuzzling into Andrew’s hand as Andrew pauses his stroking.

“You might be.” Andrew whispers. “I think we should get you in the shower, run it a little cold to bring your fever down and then I can make you something to eat. Have you been eating?” Garrett makes a kind of gesture with his hand, tilting it side to side, and wrinkles his nose.

“I hate standing.” But he’s attempting to slowly sit up, swallowing thickly and steadying himself with closed eyes and a clammy hand on Andrew’s shoulder.

“I know.” Andrew takes the hand that was causing his body to thrum just from the slight contact and uses it to pull Garrett to his feet, stabilizing him by dropping both his hands to Garrett’s hips as he lurches at the movement. “You’re okay.” He tells Garrett who turns his face away to hack, one hand coming up to rest on his chest as he struggles to breathe. Andrew tries to ignore the way his conscious guilts him for clinging tighter to Garrett’s hips. “Shower’ll help with that cough too. You’ll feel so much better.” He soothes as they make their way to the bathroom. Garrett rests heavily on the door frame watching as Andrew tests the temperature of the water with his hands.

Andrew knows that their relationship isn’t conventional. That they’ve blurred the line of friendship and more with every passing touch. It should be more confusing than it actually is, Andrew not thinking twice as he knocks their hands and laces their fingers together in a backwards handhold with the back of their hands pressing and their fingers linking. “You’re okay.” He whispers into Garrett’s hair as Garrett leans forward to rest his forehead on Andrew’s shoulder as they wait for the water to heat up.

He’s glad nobody else is there to see them like this, their friends warning Andrew that he needed to be gentle with how he gave himself to Garrett. ‘Don’t lead him on.’ Someone had once told him as they watched Garrett from across the room at a party. At the time Andrew had been annoyed with the commentary. Nobody knew Garrett better than Andrew and nobody seemed to understand that this was how they’d operated since the beginning of their friendship. Andrew couldn’t picture a universe where he and Garrett weren’t bound together like the binding of a well-loved and used book. And he knows right now, with the way he’s resting his chin on Garrett’s head as they sway together, that it looks bad. Knows that maybe they should talk more about it. But tonight, with how sick Garrett was, he just revels in the fact that he could provide some comfort and ease; smoothing a hand down Garrett’s back and feeling the tension leave.

“Ready?” He whispers finally, pulling back to look down at Garrett who’s half asleep against his chest. Garrett nods and straightens up, thickly swallowing again as he uses a hand to support himself on the wall to get to the shower. “I’m gonna leave the door cracked so I can hear if you suddenly die.” Andrew watches as Garrett pauses outside the shower and fiddles with the end of his shirt, knowing the other boy was too hesitant to remove it in front of him. He waits outside the door as he listens to Garrett coughing as he climbs into the shower until Garrett stops hacking before making his way into the kitchen to cook.

**

By the time Garrett emerges from the bathroom in a robe with his hair wrapped up in a towel, he’s got some color back on his cheeks. While he waited Andrew had finished the laundry and remade Garrett’s bed, making sure to clean up any of the remaining puke he found on the floor, and had set out a bowl of soup for Garrett to eat. “Looking better already.” He says as Garrett eyes the soup warily. “Come sit and eat.” He pats the open spot on the couch next to him, pausing the show he’d been watching.

“Need to change.” Garrett shuffles over and grabs out a new shirt, a long sleeved one Andrew hadn’t seen him wear in years, and then goes into the bedroom to dress himself. When he comes back out, he’s in a pair of old sweatpants and his hair is sticking up in all different directions. Andrew feels his heart swell. Garrett looks exhausted from the effort of it all as he shuffles over and all but collapses onto the couch. “Sleep.” He whispers and frowns, bringing a hand to his throat and rubbing the outside like it aches to speak.

“After you eat a little.” Andrew hands him the bowl. “You should take some of these Motrin as well, bring your fever down.” He shakes the pill bottle. “Then I’ve got some shit that’ll knock you right out and we can sleep.” He sits cross legged so he can watch Garrett carefully take a few timid spoonfuls. “Here,” He says hating the way Garrett winces with every swallow. Taking the bowl and settling it back on the coffee table he hands Garrett a water bottle and a few of the motrin, waiting for him to finish before handing him back the soup.

They’re mostly quietly as Garrett eats and they watch a few episodes of Schitt’s Creek together, needing mindless TV. He tries not to worry as Garrett’s hands shake as he tries to eat a few more bites of soup but hardly makes a dent. “Can’t.” He whispers to Andrew as he nudges the bowl towards Andrew’s hands. “S’painful.” He gestures to his chest and throat and shrugs shaking his head.

“Okay.” Andrew leans forward to set it back down and then wraps an arm around Garrett’s shoulders to tug him closer, Garrett’s head resting on his chest. “You wanna sleep?” He asks the mop of hair under his nose smelling the Dollar Shave Club shampoo Garrett must have used. Garrett hardly moves and Andrew wonders if he’ll have to figure out a way for them both to comfortably sleep on the couch when he nods. “Come on.” He urges and helps Garrett attempt to steady himself as they go into Garrett’s bedroom. As they make their way to the bed Andrew feels awash with a comfortable sleepiness he’d been missing with all his nights at Shane’s house, missing a familiar place. It wasn’t something they talked much about, used to sharing a bed or a couch whenever there wasn’t enough room. It had always just felt natural. Easy. “In or out?” He asks as Garrett starts crawling across the bed and rolling so he’s facing the wall.

Andrew busies himself by pulling the blankets up around a shivering Garrett and adjusts the pillows so that they’re even for when he’s ready to come to bed, knowing he needed to clean up and grab some of the supplies he’d left in the living room. He’s stopped by a hand on his wrist, Garrett tugging on him as if trying to pull him into bed. “Sleep.” He insists looking heavily at Andrew through little slits instead of eyes.

“Yeah I know.” Andrew reassures him, “Just need to grab some stuff for you. I’ll be here in a minute.” He goes back into the living room and powers down the projector, rinsing out the soup bowl that Garrett hadn’t bothered with, and then grabbing the CVS back before turning out the lights and going back into the bedroom. “Hey.” He whispers into the dark. “Don’t hate me but I’m gonna turn the light on for a minute.” He waits a beat for Garrett to prepare himself and then flips on the overhead light and heading over to the bed where Garrett is curled onto his side looking miserable. Sitting next to Garrett, Andrew unwraps the NyQuil bottle he’d gotten and measures out a hefty dose frowning as Garrett hardly moves when Andrew places a hand on his shoulder to shake him. “Hey, G.” He’s gentle as squeezes Garrett’s shoulder. “Just sit up one second. You’ll sleep so much better after taking this.” Garrett weakly moans but follows Andrew’s instructions slowly pushing himself into a seated position and shakily grabbing the plastic cup with the dark purple liquid.

It’s a process to get Garrett to lay back down again but once he’s on his side he blinks heavily at Andrew and points up to his laptop up on the shelf, gesturing and pulling a face like he was willing Andrew to understand what he wanted. He feels the pride of knowing exactly what Garrett wants manifesting itself as a blush in his cheeks as he walks over and unlocks the computer, the password memorized for years, and scrolls through until he finds Infinity War to play. Garrett has the blankets pulled to his chin and sleepily blinks as he tries to stay up when Andrew makes his way back over to the bed. “You should sleep,” Andrew tells him and lets his knees bump against the side of the mattress. Garrett nods as he looks up at Andrew and then sneaks one hand out to pat the empty space next to him. “I was gonna shower first.” Andrew tells him softly, raising his voice some as Garrett begins to cough loudly, a wet and raspy sound. “I got you vaporub for that,” Andrew comforts and then reaches into the bag again pulling out the small container. The strong scent of menthol penetrates the air as Andrew undoes the secure wrapping and then looks down at Garrett who’s gone bright red from how hard he was coughing, looking completely wiped out from it.

“Thanks,” He whispers and reaches a shaking hand for the container but Andrew holds it closer to his chest.

“I can,” He’s barely over a whisper himself, “I can help you.” Garrett looks grateful as he nods, pulling the blanket down and maneuvering so he’s on his back. Andrew is bright red as he hooks his thumb on the collar of Garrett’s shirt attempting to pull it down enough to see Garrett’s chest, chewing the inside of his lip when he knows the position won’t work. “Sorry, I might need to lift your shirt some.” They don’t say anything as he pushes Garrett’s shirt under his armpits, eyeing the way Garrett’s pale stomach practically glows in the harsh overhead lighting. It’s more intimate than Andrew had intended. His hands are shaking as much as Garrett’s as he applies the opaque gel in a generous amount over Garrett’s chest, his own nose starting to run at the smell. “Okay,” He pulls Garrett’s shirt back down trying to ignore the heated stare his best friend was giving him knowing that if they made eye contact in that moment he wasn’t sure he’d be strong enough to stop himself. “Shower and I’ll be back.” He’s sure to the turn lights out as he exits the room, heart pounding as he walks and takes a cold shower.

**

He can feel the tension still tight in his lower stomach he makes his way back into the bedroom where Garrett is sound asleep, not moving as Andrew recovers him with the blanket he’d managed to knock off himself. He hesitates as he stares at the empty space still left for him to fill. The easy-going part of his brain taking control over the anxiety ridden panic driving up his chest as he peels back the blankets and tucks himself in. The movie is still softly playing in the background, a fan going in the corner, and Garrett’s soft snoring echoing in his ears. He’d never more comforted by the level of noise lulling him to sleep. Turning so he’s on his side to face Garrett, he stares at the soft bow of his lip and the tiny wrinkles by his eyes. The way his hair stands up on end from not being blow-dried after a shower and the days old scruff on his chin.

Andrew lets in a sharp intake of breath as he realizes how much he loves him. Loves him as his best friend. As the person who he can lay in silence with, the one who knows his Starbucks and Chipotle order by heart, who knows what books to pull off the shelf and what songs Andrew would like the best. The one who knew when Andrew needed space and when he needed to be pulled back to Earth. Who he could bounce ideas off of at three in the morning and in the afternoon. Who slept just as much as Andrew did. Who laughed at all of Andrew’s jokes. Who sent GIF’s of dogs at all the right times. The type of love, Andrew realizes, that makes him want to stay by Garrett forever. “I love you.” He whispers out, testing the words on his tongue and a chill rolls down his back and spreads like warm through his body. He loves him. Garrett doesn’t answer back, his mouth falling open to make breathing easier, his eyes fluttering at the sound of Andrew’s voice. Andrew lines his body up closer to fit Garrett into his side, Garrett’s face tucking into his shoulder like it was natural for them to do so. Closing his eyes Andrew feels his body getting heavier, melting into the comfort and familiarity of Garrett. 

They’d talk about it in the morning, maybe.

**

It turns out he doesn’t have to wait until morning for the talk. Garrett wakes him up hours later, the world still dark outside the windows, trying to climb over him looking like he’d seen a ghost. Even in the dark Andrew can see how stark Garrett had gone, the paleness of his cheeks and the way his shirt look soaked with damp sweat. “Gare,” He whispers out and starts to reach for him but Garrett manages to stumble away and into the bathroom before Andrew can gather his bearings.

“Garrett,” He calls out but is met with the sound of retching. Standing up he makes his way to the bathroom where Garrett is hunched over, entire body wrecked with shakes. “Hey.” He whispers and sinks down next to him, hand immediately coming to Garrett’s back to rub. “You’re okay.” Soothing his hand up and down as Garrett finishes. The smell of sick penetrates the room as Garrett collapses down, his body still trembling, so Andrew reaches over him to flush. Unrolling a few ply’s of toilet paper, he arranges Garrett to sit between the v of his legs, back to chest, and wipes around Garrett’s mouth. Garrett keeps his eyes squeezed shut and clenches a fist onto one of Andrew’s thighs, gathering the material of his track suit bottoms in a ball. “Good?” Andrew asks him and drops the toilet paper into the bowl. He feels more than sees Garrett’s shake of no. His body feels like it’s on fire. “We’ll stay here till you’re ready.” He suppresses a yawn as he settles his back against the wall, wrapping his arms around Garrett to keep him upright.

“You can sleep.” Garrett’s hoarse voice finally squeaks out. He’s breathing through tight lips like he’s willing whatever was fighting its way to come up to stay inside.

“Huh?” Andrew lifts his head from where he’d been resting it on Garrett’s. He drinks in the sight of the other boy, still so beautiful even this sick. “I’m okay, Garrett. I’m here to take care of you. It’s fine.” He feels self-conscious about the way he’s holding Garrett, suddenly, aware that perhaps he should be giving him more space. “Do you want me to go?” He hopes Garrett says no. It takes everything in him to start to pull his arms bag, like a magnetic force was keeping them interlocked around Garrett’s chest.

“No.” Garrett whispers and then gags. “Fuck.” He leans forward and begins again, a load of bile coming from his stomach. Andrew helps position him and then stands up to grab a washrag to wet with some cool water, remembering his mom doing the same for him when he was a child. Bringing it to rest on Garrett’s neck he sits back down beside him to lay a level hand on his back and swallows down his own nausea at the smell and sounds.

“It’s okay.” He tries to assure Garrett who looks up at him tearfully from the straining of his stomach. “I’m here.” And Garrett nods before hunching over again.

They’re in the bathroom for the better part of the night. The pillows and blankets had been brought in, the laptop set up to play The Office, and Garrett’s head was in his lap while Andrew ran a lazy hand through his hair. “I know,” He whispers into the phone. The sun was peaking in through the double doors and creeping into the bathroom.

“If he can’t even keep water down you really should take him.” His mom tells him and Andrew frowns at the full bottle of water still next to them. Garrett hardly had managed a sip.

“I’m going to.” He reassures her, having called her a few minutes before to explain what was going on, glad that she was on a business trip and able to talk to him.

“You’re a good friend, honey.” She coos. “Let Garrett know we send our love! I’ve got a meeting to get to.” He looks down at the boy resting on his legs as he says goodbye, his hand stilling in his hair. Was he just a friend? Was that how they’d classify it? Andrew wasn’t sure anymore.

“Garrett.” He shakes gently at his shoulder. “Hey. I know,” as Garrett groans loudly at the motion turning his face to rub against Andrew’s calf and ignore the ministrations. “Garrett. We need to get you to a doctor. Your fever isn’t going down and you can barely keep water down. Come on.” Andrew feels the familiar fret of anxiety lurking. He had to get Garrett help before he got any worse.

“S’expensive.” Garrett whines at him but turns to look up, his face scrunched up unhappily.

“I know it is.” Andrew whispers. “I will pay for it. But I need you to go.” Garrett looks like he’s ready to say no again, “For me.” Andrew’s firm. “Garrett. I want you to go for me because I don’t like this. I’m worried. You’re making me worried.” He picks at a loose thread on Garrett’s shirt to avoid the way his hands are shaking. His voice wavers as he thickly swallows, feeling ridiculous at how afraid he was about Garrett’s illness. “I just want you to be okay.” His voice is hardly above a whisper and he watches his hands, instead of Garrett’s face, as he twists the strands of hair.

“You’re always worried.” Garrett’s dry with him but nods. “For you.” He catches Andrew’s hand in his own and brings it up to his chapped lips, laying a small kiss on Andrew’s knuckles. Something they’d done a thousand times before but feeling so much more intimate with the way they don’t break eye contact.

“Thank you.” Andrew doesn’t make a move to pull back or get up. Andrew can feel the way his body moves on its own, leaning down until his own lips meet Garrett’s forehead. Something new. He shoots up feeling hot, his lips tingling with the intimacy of the movement, both embarrassed and giddy at the small gesture. “Sorry-“ He says at the same time Garrett whispers, “Missed my mouth.” They stare at each other, the bathroom feeling tight all of a sudden, both terrified to make the next move.

“I’m sorry,” Garrett finally chokes out. “Did I misread this? I’m sick. Blame the fever.” Andrew doesn’t know if the flush on Garrett’s cheeks is from the fever or mortification at what he had said. His hands won’t stop shaking and he’s desperate to anchor them with Garrett’s own. Garrett doesn’t move from his lap, though, his heavy gaze watching Andrew carefully.

“No.” Andrew whispers out. “You didn’t misread it.” He reaches a hand out cups Garrett’s cheek ignoring the tremors in his chest. “I didn’t miss your mouth though.” He says carefully and presses his lips together to hide his smile.

Garrett doesn’t smile back, looking confused with hazy eyes, pressing harder into Andrew’s hand like he was trying to reassure himself it was really happening. “Oh?”

“I don’t want your flu.” He teases letting the grin break out on his face. “But I do want you.” Garrett looks offended for a split second before letting out a barking laughter that ends in a coughing fit that has him wrenching out of Andrew’s lap and hovering like he might throw up again. After a few dry heaves he settles back some and then nods at Andrew.

“Okay. Doctor.” He agrees. “So I can kiss you for real.” And Andrew’s body ignites with excitement at the prospect; helping Garrett up and finding both of their shoes before half dragging Garrett out to the car.

**

One flu diagnosis later, Andrew is saddled with a new bag full of medication and prescriptions, Garrett asleep in the bed as he texts Shane on his phone to give him the update.

_Staying with G, he’s got the flu. Wanna make sure he’s okay. _He texts out and then hesitates before sending the next message, _Hope you can’t contract it through kissing. _And he adds a few winking faces, the emoji of boys kissing, and a few hearts before sending it out.

He has to bite his knuckles to prevent the squeaking laughter as Shane’s reply comes almost immediate.

_I FUCKING CALLED IT! _

Looking over at Garrett, who continues to sleep, he leans down to press a peck against Garrett’s lips; flu be damned. “I love you.” He whispers out, knowing that Garrett wouldn’t answer back, but desperately excited for the moment he will.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for sticking through and reading!


End file.
